Seto's Casual Clothes
by Writer'sBlockAllDay
Summary: Because he wears 'common' clothes too...


**Seto's Casual Clothes**

Kisara had no other words to describe this day besides it being generally lazy. She didn't know how or why. Her own house was devoid of people at the moment. Her mother and her father were off at a couple's retreat with her dad's coworkers. She never got along with her older sister that well, so that left the other girl wandering off somewhere leaving Kisara alone at home. She was responsible enough to tend to household chores when everybody else was gone, but today, she had woken up bored out of her mind after attempting to read an informative book. Entertaining herself with television didn't work either, and neither did social networking. What was so entertaining about scrolling through one's news feed?

With no other choice in the matter, she had ended up picking up her phone, pressing a very familiar number on speed-dial, and getting a snarky confirmation afterwards. She never wanted to be trouble on the Kaiba brothers or anyone for that matter, but she _did_ ask if it was okay to drop in for awhile, and the elder Kaiba had given her the green light.

So here she was, sprawled across the bed of a frequently used room, thumbing through the pages of a leather-bound book, with headphones placed over her ears. Ryan Star filled her senses as Kisara lifted a slice of pizza to her lips, delicately nibbling at the stringy cheese while savoring the taste. Seto had left her alone an hour ago to complete his thorough analysis on the latest financial report submitted. He promised he'd hang out with her afterwards, but until then, he told her to feel at home—which meant a lot because _the_ Seto Kaiba was saying it.

She wasn't even sure how long it had been since Seto had left her momentarily alone. She was too comfortable in her own little world of looking up information on historical architecture. That and she was enjoying her pizza immensely—care of Mr. Hotshot CEO.

"Oof!"

She yelped out as something considerably heavy landed across her back, pinning her down to the soft mattress. Opening her eyes that had squeezed shut out of surprise, she hastily yanked the headphones off of her ears—cutting off Ryan Star's high notes on _We Might Fall—_ and looked back over her shoulder to glare at whoever had the nerve to disrupt her peace.

It was only Seto who was grinning like the Cheshire cat as he caught her staring daggers at him. The only word she could think of to describe his situation was 'awkward.' It had to be for a sixteen-year old who stood at a height of 6'1. For some reason, he reminded her of a gangly kitten unable to place himself in a comfy position. The king-sized bed was wide enough to occupy his entire height horizontally, but she felt like it only added to his unusual position. Still, he was heavy, and she could feel her lower back being crushed by his abdomen.

"Get off, Seto. You're heavy." She admonished, squirming slightly underneath him to make a point. Her legs thrashed around in the bed before keeping still.

"Are you calling me fat?" He cocked an eyebrow as he feigned an insulted tone.

She rolled her eyes. "Geez. You're at least six feet tall and you're a guy. Of course you're heavy. I'm blaming you if my backbones are crushed."

The brunette chuckled as he complied to her wish and graciously got off of her, but not before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her along with him as he sat back on the bed and leaned his back against the cerulean headboard. Her startled squeal died down as he arranged her carefully so she was sitting between his legs—both bent at the knee while he kept one arm behind his head.

Shaking her head, Kisara reached across the mattress and picked up the book she had been reading before her boyfriend had unceremoniously interrupted her. Picking up where she had left off, her eyes scanned over every single word on the smooth page before she found herself distracted again when she felt somebody's nose in her hair, nuzzling the back of her neck.

Lifting her hand, she reached behind her and tangled her fingers in Seto's soft brown hair. "You're in a playful mood today." She noted, smiling to herself because these moments were extremely rare.

His head lowered a little, just as she felt a pair of lips trailing kisses from the side of her neck to her pale bare shoulders. The slight turn of her head allowed her to plant an affectionate kiss on his hair, a gesture he gladly returned by running his hands across the creamy pale skin of her bare legs. She was seriously confused on whether she made the right choice by wearing shorts today. The weather was hot, but her man's fingers were triggering her hormones.

"So my baby was bored, hm?" He growled into her ear, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of her jean shorts.

' _Baby?'_ He was _definitely_ in a rare mood. Pet names were one of his pet peeves, so unlike other teenage boys, Seto called her by name. But when he was in a romantic mood—which was very rare—she got the quiet murmurs of 'Angel,' and the occasional 'Baby' was reserved for moments just like this.

"Yeah, and I don't know why." She sighed. "No cars in need of fixing today either. I'm really out of luck."

"I have a solution." He teased, his thumbs sneakily slipping under the hem of her top to stroke the bare skin underneath.

She swatted his pant-clad knee, and that was when she noticed what he was wearing. What he was _still_ wearing despite the fact that he was in his own home, working.

"Are you seriously wearing your 'dueling' outfit in your own home?" She blinked, noticing the fabric of the black pants and the blue belt straps hugging his shins. She had taken to calling it his 'dueling' outfit, because really, he always wore the ensemble to every duel he played in. It was actually kind of his iconic outfit already.

"Pft." He snorted. "You know you love it."

That wasn't how Seto would usually respond. He really _was_ feeling playful, wasn't he?

"Seriously though." She mumbled, shifting around so she could look at his face better. "I'm curious why you never wear any casual clothes."

He blinked. "These _are_ casual. I just threw a bunch of them together."

She didn't fail to see his smirk when she rolled her eyes. And people say women had some bizarre tastes in fashion. Somebody had neglected to mention that some men throw in the most complicated ensembles. It all just depended on who wore it and how they carried it. On any other person, Seto's _preferred_ outfits would look extremely ridiculous, but damn... Kisara had no idea how Seto Kaiba himself could pull it off so perfectly.

"I can't believe a fashion designer hasn't approached you and asked for permission to distribute your clothing ensemble yet." She muttered under her breath, but he heard it nonetheless.

"Am I really that attractive?" The CEO asked, feigning misplaced innocence. As if Seto Kaiba could be innocent in any way. He was as jaded as any other boy his age.

"Stop distracting me with off-handed comments when you haven't answered my question yet." She chastised him sternly, poking a slender finger against his shoulder in a slightly threatening manner that did little to faze him.

"There was a question?" He shot back deviously, brushing strands of silver hair from her suddenly exasperated face.

Kisara folded her arms across her chest, and raised her eyebrow at him, pursing her lips in indignation. He would never tell her, but Seto always found her act of defiance quite attractive—admittedly hot.

He sighed, relenting to avoid a petty argument—that would eventually amuse them both anyway. "I _do_ have 'common' clothes, as Mokuba would put it." He shrugged, shifting his hold on her a little. "I just don't wear them often. I can't exactly show up at work wearing a t-shirt and ripped jeans."

Kisara thoughtfully placed her chin on the heel of her palm, the elbow resting comfortably on top of Seto's knee. She regarded his face curiously, wondering how he would look in those casual clothes. She hadn't seen him in any of them, and though on normal days, she wouldn't be so assertive, today was a different day. She was bored, he was being awfully devious—and lenient, and both were in the mood to find excuses to play with each other.

"Will you show me?" She asked, offering him the sweet smile she knew he couldn't resist.

"You'll see me in them at some point." He shrugged, refusing to budge from his spot on the mattress.

"At _some_ point. Why not now?" She continued to implore as she gently stroked his arm with her other hand.

"Fine, I will." He agreed, a sly smile curving at his lips. "But you'll have to stay for dinner." A mischievous glint alighted in his fiery cobalt blue eyes. "And cook it for me too."

She shrugged nonchalantly after the initial shock at the unexpected request had ebbed away. Never had he asked her to cook for him before. That was a big deal to her for some reason. It was one of those things that could never be explained. "No big deal."

Kisara carefully maneuvered herself out of his secure grasp. She pecked his cheek and made to push him off of the bed.

"Get in your walk-in closet." She ordered with a bright teasing smile, nudging his leg with her foot when he was taking his sweet time moving to the clothing storage. "Pretend we're in an episode of _Asia's Next Top Model_ and you're being told to go on the run-way."

Seto rolled his eyes. "I don't understand your Lifestyle TV references." He grumbled under his breath as he wrenched the closet door open so hard that it could have swung right off of its oiled hinges.

Kisara threw a fluffy cushion at him, hitting the middle of his back successfully. "Because you're a boy."

Grinning, she adjusted her position on his bed, making herself comfortable as Seto disappeared into the other room—which so happened to be his closet. She'd been in there before, and he definitely could beat any daddy's girl in the clothing department. There was a line-up of men's suits in there; ranging from business to formal to business-casual to work—all pressed and perfectly ironed. And of course, it wouldn't be a Seto Kaiba closet without his extensive collection of long flaring overcoats. The majority of his clothes were obviously tailored, and had the KC logo sewn onto it, and if wasn't, it was easy to see that it was designer. He claimed that he never really bought them personally. Being as wealthy as he was, he told her he had hired a personal shopper to get him all the clothes he would need, and the employee might have gone overboard with the designer suits. He also had an entire shelf dedicated entirely to different kinds and colors of shoes—mostly formal loafers and leather boots in black, brown, or white. Once again, all of it care of the personal shopper who he had neglected to put a limit on the credit card. The only thing missing would be an array of hand held clutches and purses and bags, and his closet could definitely pass for a girl's—minus all the men's underwear hidden in there and the men's outfits everywhere.

Kisara waited patiently as she sat on the bed, taking the book she had put aside when Seto had began cuddling her earlier. He didn't take long. If she was paying close attention, she would have noted that he only took all of five minutes before several knocks brought her out of her reading.

She looked up, and any respectable female would have had to summon all their will power to keep their jaws from falling slack to the floor. And they say only men ever comically jaw-dropped? Women did too. They were just better at keeping a hold of themselves, or so Kisara would like to think.

Well, now she definitely knew why he had a good reason to abstain from the 'common' clothes. Any rabid fan girl of his would jump him in an instant and possibly eat his face. That was one image she ever regretted entertaining. But all manner of drooling fan girl's fantasies aside, Kisara would definitely have to admit that Seto Kaiba was indeed _sinfully attractive_ in black denim jeans, a casual plain gray t-shirt, and an open high-collared black leather jacket.

"You remind me of a bad ass biker." She wrinkled her nose slightly, taking in his appearance. He _actually_ complied with this.

"From your initial reaction, I'd say I earned myself a perfect ten." The brunette chuckled, mirth dancing in his amused blue eyes.

And women already wanted him whenever he donned that iconic duelist ensemble of his. Kisara didn't want to think of all those women's reactions if they ever saw him in the clothes he was wearing now. Talk about giving off the perfect bad boy vibe. Honestly, she would never tell him, but if he wanted to, Seto could really pass for a clothesline model. (She just knew he would say, "F*** no!," if she ever pitched the idea anyway.) She hadn't seen a single article of clothing for men that he couldn't pull of flawlessly. What was it about him? It had be to the body right? Or was it the impressive height?

He really _was_ the type of man that any woman would want. Tall, imposing, incredibly intelligent, wealthy, stunningly attractive. Smiling secretly to herself, Kisara couldn't stop herself from thinking how lucky she was, and how happy that out of all the girls he could have, he had chosen...a girl like her. A girl who seemed like nothing compared to him.

"What's that grin on your face for?" A deep voice asked, breaking her train of happy thoughts.

She looked up at him, only to see that he was right in front of her face, grinning that charmingly devious grin that meant trouble for the both of them.

Kisara shrugged, tilting her head along with the motion. "Just thinking of how I _don't_ regret falling for and loving a snarky asshole like you." She flashed him his favorite smile, the one that he could never ever say 'no' to.

Seto cupped her face as he planted a loving kiss upon those luscious lips. "Just remember one thing?"

"And what's that?" She smiled, her eyes wandering to his mouth before it traveled up to meet his steady gaze again.

"That this snarky asshole is happy that he's in love with an angel like you..."


End file.
